


Dark Genie of the Woods

by Tandem_Constable



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Forests, Gen, Genies, Kaiba Seto Needs a Hug, Morally Ambiguous Character, Yami no Game | Shadow Game, Yelling, chess with stakes, maybe Yugi is just a hermit, maybe fantasy era, semi ambiguous ending, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:34:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23150272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tandem_Constable/pseuds/Tandem_Constable
Summary: On the door of a modest home, nestled deep within the darkest thick of the forest, banged a frantic fist. They say a genie lives there, a genie who can grant any wish, and he's desperate.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Dark Genie of the Woods

On the door of a modest home, nestled deep within the darkest thick of the forest, banged a frantic fist. The door opened almost immediately, though it took a moment longer for the hammering hand to still. A large set of violet eyes peered out through the crack, startled and full of confusion.

“Hello? May I help you?” The boy behind the door held a strangely steady voice, soft-spoken as he was.

“Are you Mutou Yugi?” Demanded a deep, desperate, pant. The boy blinked and tightened his grip on the door.

“Who wants to know?” His voice remained steady, not a waver to betray the terror filling his eyes. There was no blame to be placed in him for his reaction. It would be considered unexpected for an irate visitor to arrive in the middle of the night at a house so very secluded and hidden away. And his visitor, was not a very comforting man to be bombarded with. And the boy was very, very small.

“I cannot share my name,” announced the man who had pounded upon his door. He sighed and adjusted a white scarf that he wore wrapped around his face, only a set of dark blue eyes left exposed. “But I can promise you that I did not come here seeking to cause you misfortune.”

“Why are you here?” The door didn’t open any wider for the unannounced intruder. The blue eyes squinted in exhaustion.

“Are the rumors true?” His voice was too loud, far too loud for the late hour, and too forceful, far too forceful to be used between strangers.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you-“

“Do you have a genie?” The white-scarfed man pushed his forearm against the door, towering over the boy. The man’s eyes bore into him, crazed and rimmed in sleepless red. “Are you able to call upon its power? Where do you keep it? How much money-“

“I don’t want any money!” The boy shoved against the door, struggling against the weight of the man pressed against it. The taller man was able to force the door further open, not by much, but enough to see more of the boy, enough of him to know that he had opened the door dressed in a yellow sleep shirt. The boy’s hand clutched a golden pyramid that hung from his neck, and a droplet of sweat rolled down the side of his face. “I don’t have a genie.”

“You’re lying to me!” The man growled, slamming his fist into the doorframe. The pained scream of fractured wood sang through the chilled air. “I can give you anything you want! If not money, then land, wo-“

“If you have so much at your disposal, why are you here looking for a genie?” 

The man froze. He let his head drop, his shoulders shaking, his weight held up by his arms on the door and frame, not his quivering legs.A night breeze rolled though, tugging at the edges of the man’s scarf and the flipped lapels of his dark, dark coat. He pulled back, giving the boy the opportunity to close the door on him; he remained where he was, watching the man spiral in front of him.

The man dropped to his knees, coat flaring out around him, a cloak of defeat. The boy couldn’t help but think of the dew that must be soaking through the expensive, yet not very thick, fabric on his legs. It was cold out, and the man had traveled a long way to arrive at his doorstep. He considered inviting him in, to sit in front of a fire.

“If what I sought could be bought, if I had not already exhausted my resources, then I would not be here, looking for a genie.” His voice rumbled low, almost inaudible. Had the night been anything other than deathly silent, his voice would have been blanketed and obscured. “I lost someone, someone very dear to me.”

“A genie can’t bring back someone from death.” The door slowly creaked open. “Others have come here seeking to be reunited with the dead, but we can’t offer that,” the boy spoke gently, as if he was trying to sooth a wild animal. Maybe he was, the eyes that latched onto his face had certainly grown wild at one point.

“He’s not dead! He was taken from me and hidden!” The man snapped at him. “I’ve expended every resource searching for him, but- HE’S NOT DEAD! He can’t be.” Bitter tears tore shameful tracts down his face. It was apparent that the man was unaccustomed to crying. He did it messily and without skill, choking and sputtering on the feelings he could not contain. He turned away and growled at himself, struggle to compose himself. The boy frowned at the sight.

“I can’t promise you anything, but how about you come inside with me?” A small hand hovered in the air, open and waiting to help the man up. Blue eyes stared at the offending hand for four beats of a straining heart. Neither spoke, each barely breathing.

The man huffed and pushed himself to his feet. He straightened to his full height and scrunched his nose at the still extended hand. The boy retracted his silent offer, staring up at those freezing eyes. He had always been shorter than most, but even he could acknowledge that this man was impossibly tall.

He shook his head, and turned back to his home. He swung the door open wider and strode in, gesturing behind him for the man to follow. Footfalls instantaneously landed on the ground dangerously close behind where he had stepped himself.

“My name is Yugi by the way.” He glanced back with an awkward smile on his face.

“I thought as much.” He sounded so self-assured, so much more in control than moments before. His gaze was so unwavering and confident, that Yugi almost doubted that he had just watched the man completely break down in front of him. If it wasn’t for the moisture still soaking that scarf, and the heaviness framing the man’s eyes, he might actually reconsider what he had just seen.

Yugi sat down in a creaky, old rocking chair, golden pyramid held contemplatively in his hands. He shifted his head, causing golden blond sprigs of hair to fall over his face, obfuscating his expression. Aside from the bangs, his hair looked like a burst of black flame atop his head, and the man wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before.

The man stood in the middle of the room, taking in his surroundings to the rhythm of the rocking chair. The room was warm, everything made of wood. A few unlit lanterns hung silently from the rafters, the only light in the room coming from a lit fireplace behind the silent Yugi. 

There wasn’t much in this room. The fireplace, a rocking chair with a boy, a table with two chairs and a worn set of cards, and a shelf full of books written in a script he didn’t recognize. The contents of the room were uninteresting. What fascinated him was the sheer volume of doors. He counted twelve doors, all closed and emanating an aura of secrecy.

“He’s agreed to grant you an audience.” The gentle voice snapped his attention back to the huddled child, his rocking having long ended. His head remained lowered.

“Who has?”

“Me,” Yugi spoke again, his voice deeper and commanding attention. He raised his chin, readjusting himself to sit regally in his wooden seat. The man felt compelled to kneel, the flavor of the air having shifted in ways he could never hope to describe. His knees quivered, but he forced himself to remain standing. The boy smirked, the curl of his lips dark and unreadable.

“What are you playing at?” He demanded, his heart racing painfully. A low chuckle met his ears, freezing the blood in his veins. “Who are you?” Something told him, he wasn’t speaking to Yugi any longer. 

A ridiculous notion.

It could have been the chill that ran up his spine, or the reddened irises that seemingly bore into his soul, weighing the purity of his heart, that told him this. He could be going insane from having not slept properly in almost a month, which in his mind felt most probable. 

“I am who you came here seeking, if you do recall,” he spoke with humor in his voice, but the scarfed man didn’t feel very amused. “You may refer to me however you please, as a genie like you did when you arrived, as Darkness, as the Pharaoh Lost to Time, or even oh Great One Of Ancient Unknowable Powers, How Mighty You Are to Behold, How Handsome Are Your Eyes. I’ve even been called a dark faerie on occasion. All should prove sufficient.”

“Alright genie, I demand you grant me a wish.”

“That’s not how this works.” The genie rested his chin in his palm, his eyes burning with a hunger that betrayed the boredom in his posture. “I only grant wishes to those who earn them.”

“What do I have to do?” His fists tightened in determination, his eyes steely and desperate.

“Beat me in a game.”

“That’s all?” He cried out incredulously. “I can beat you in a game!” Laughter burbled up his throat, and exploded past his lips, ringing hollowly through the rafters. “I’ve never lost a game in my life!” 

“Neither have I.” The genie rose from the chair, the low creak of the old wood hanging ominously over their heads. He strode forward, his feet making nary a whisper against the floor. He slid past the man and came to stand beside the table. He pulled out a seat and gestured for his companion to sit.

“What would happen should I lose?” It would never happen, but it never hurt to know what one’s stakes were. The genie’s smirk widened; his teeth were particularly bright and sharp, so very sharp.

“I will take a piece of you.” The man gawked.

“Like a toe or something?” He eyed the chair that sat waiting for him, the hand that coaxed him forward.

“Or something.” The man sat and was pushed up to the table. He eyed the cards in the center of the table. They had clearly seen many games, were well-used, well-loved. The chair on the other side of the table scraped in announcement of its occupant. “We will play a game of your choosing.” The genie swiped the cards from the table and pocketed them.

“Chess.”

“Very well. May I ask why you chose this particular game?” The man blinked and an immaculate chessboard appeared before him. He chose not to question it. He was too tired to bother questioning it.

“I’m good at it,” he answered absently, bringing the queen closer. It was intricately carved with runes and symbols he couldn’t place. The top was set with a clear blue gemstone, which he personally thought complemented the pearly white piece very nicely.

“This will be a shadow game,” the genie stated. Kaiba nodded. Whether they played in the dark or not made no difference to him. “Your move is first, whenever you are ready.” The man replaced his queen, replacing it with a pawn and moving it into position. “Interesting,” The genie hummed, moving a pawn of his own, a pawn blacker than the night he had arrived in.

“How so?” He moved another piece, scanning the board with a scheming eye, alert despite his prior exhaustion. The genie answered him with another smile, moving another pawn. He wasn’t looking at the board, his eyes trained on the man in front of him.

The man, feeling bare under that scrutinizing gaze, pulled his scarf tighter around himself, yanking it higher up over his sharp nose. It stuck uncomfortably to his skin with moisture, but he wouldn’t forgo it for his privacy. He moved another piece into position, trying to ignore the eyes on the top of his head.

“What’s your name?” The genie nonchalantly moved another piece, as if everything wasn’t at stake over this single game. Which, to him, there really wasn’t anything at stake. He was mocking him.

“Why do you want to know?” The man snapped back, his next move clacking hatefully against the board. He was almost certain he had chipped the stone, but he didn’t spare it a glance to check.

“I lost my own name years ago. It pains me to see a name kept and held like a curse.” He moved his knight.

“What makes you think I’m anything but content with my name?” He slammed down his rook. “I’ll have you know that I’m quite proud of my name!” The genie leaned back, seemingly having forgotten their game, or more, playing one of his own.

“Then why keep it secret?”

“I have many enemies-“

“No! You? Never!” That lighthearted laugh churned the man’s blood.

“And I can’t risk any drastic measures being taken against my brother should it be discovered I’m acting outside my role!” The genie, an abated smile on his face, leaned forward and lifted his knight from the board.

“So it’s your brother you came here for.” He gently placed the dark horse-head, never once glancing at the board. “Check.”

A strangled sound ripping through his throat, the man blinked at the board. He had left himself open, but worst of all, he had let his tongue slip. He dug his fingers into the table, hurriedly devising a new tactic. He made his move.

“Leave my brother out of this,” he hissed.

“How? Isn’t he what this is all about?” The genie made another move. “Check.” He smirked. He wanted to slap that smirk off his face.

“Stop taunting me!” He readjusted his pieces. “Take this seriously, dammit!” The genie raised his eyebrows and slid his bishop across the stone field.

“How can I treat you seriously if you won’t give me so much as an alias? So far as I am concerned, I haven’t an opponent.” He didn’t react to the pawn slammed against the board, making the pieces jump. “What purpose could I possibly have for allowing your name to leave this room?”

“Kaiba,” the man spat, seething at the mouth. 

“Well now, that’s no way to say a name you’re supposedly so proud of.” He took one of Kaiba’s pawns, the pawn swirling up into the air until it was no more.

“I AM proud of that name! I EARNED it! I am Seto Kaiba! There is no better!” Kaiba tore the scarf from his face and threw it behind him. He slammed his fists against the table and leapt to his feet. His chair clattered to the ground, but he paid it no heed, too busy vibrating with ill-kempt rage. 

“Well met, Seto Kaiba. Check.”

“What? How?” Kaiba roared, chair shaking from his tightening grip on it. “You’re cheating!” He grit his teeth and dropped forward onto his elbows, assessing every square and space on the board.

“I would never cheat. I’m simply better.” The genie responded calmly, irritatingly calmly. Kaiba’s eye twitched. 

“Check.” Kaiba growled, hopeful he had re-found his footing.

“Would you care for something to eat? You seem rather irritable.”

“Stop toying with me!” Kaiba seethed. “Just take your next turn and concede defeat!”

“When actually was the last time you ate? You’re almost worryingly thin.” The genie continued on as if they were old friends carrying on a normal conversation, unperturbed by the violent energy exuded from the man before him. He didn’t so much as glance at the board. “Surely I could at least tempt you for a steak, perhaps a filet-“

“Stop.” Kaiba grit through crackling teeth. “Talking.” His heart pounded wildly in his chest, but he didn’t want to give away the completely irrational terror he felt. “I will eat once I’ve won!”

“That’s unfortunate,” The wild-haired genie shrugged and placed a thin finger atop the head of rook. “It seems you will not be eating tonight, if that’s the case.” He slid the rook smoothly across the board, capturing Kaiba’s winning piece. Kaiba felt his left eye twitch. HIs pride told him he should punch this guy in his smart mouth, but he couldn’t. His brother’s safety was on the line.

“I WILL be winning tonight.” The game pieces clacked together, punctuating his statement.  
“Tell me about yourself.”

“Play the damn game. You’re the one who wanted to play.”

“Tell me.”

“My name is Seto Kaiba, I have blue eyes, and I’m good at chess.”

“More.”

“And if you don’t continue this game, I will make this game your last.” The room was silent. The the genie began to laugh. It was a light chuckle at first, a deep rumbling from deep within his chest, but it quickly grew. Soon he was clutching his stomach, tears caught in the corners of his eyes. Kaiba found himself stilled, almost calmed by the sound.

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’ve killed for less.” He bit out.

“Ah yes. I can see the blood on your hands.” Kaiba, unsure why he did it, glanced down at his hands. They were red, dripping. He jerked back and blinked rapidly to clear his vision. The blood was gone.

“What?” The genie moved his queen, silent, an unspeaking smile on his lips. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Tell me about your brother.”

“What?” Kaiba choked, unsure why he was so close to tears yet again in a single night.

“Do you not wish for me to find him?”

Kaiba closed his eyes and stilled his breathing. He was behaving irrationally. He was here for help, and yet he found himself practically fighting his own goals. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the game board between him and the genie. He could see the pieces and where they stood, but none of it held any meaning to him.

He lifted his hand and held it aloft, hovering over the playing field. He knew he had to make his next move, but he couldn’t think. His hand shook. “His name is Mokuba.”

The genie kept silent as he continued in a flat, defeated voice. “He was ten when he was taken from me, but he would be twelve now, twelve and three months and two days.” His finger slid delicately over the head of a pawn, but he didn’t lift it. “He has dark hair, darker than yours, and it was long. It was long and big, and he hated brushing it, but I would make him when it grew too gnarly.” A fond smile warmed his face, and a tear rolled to the tip of his nose. “He was always getting into trouble, but it was hard to stay mad at him very long. His eyes are just so large.”

Kaiba picked a game piece and gripped it in three fingers. “What ended up damning him in the end,” Kaiba clicked the piece into position, “was that I was too fond of him.”

“An interesting statement to make.” The genie leaned forward, his chin rested lazily on the palm of his hand. He stared out at Kaiba through impossibly black lashes. “Explain yourself.”

Kaiba dug his nails into his palms. “Gozaburo felt he was a distraction from my studies, so he had him removed.”

“And who, exactly, is Gozaburo?”

“Our step father.”

The genie was silent. Kaiba sighed and turned away to pick his abandoned chair up from the floor. He sat back down and scooted awkwardly back up to the table, thoroughly mollified and shamed from his previous tantrum. He was so unbelievably tired. He glanced back at the genie who stared silently at him with enquiring eyes. It would seem he wanted more.

“He was a lord. He dealt in weapons and intimidation, and he made quite the tidy fortune off it over the years. He adopted Mokuba and I about seven years ago. I tricked him into it. No one had wanted to take Mokuba in with me, so I tricked him into taking both of us.” Kaiba stared at he chess board. “I beat him in a game of chess.”  
The genie didn’t say a word. Kaiba bit his lip.

“He found my adoption to have been an asset. He hadn’t, before me, met anyone that he considered smarter than him, and so I had value. But I know he felt threatened by me. It’s why he always dangled Mokuba’s wellbeing in front of me, to keep me in my place. Then he sent him away.”

“And you have no idea where the boy was sent.” The genie was emotionless.

“No. I’ve been looking for him for two years, and I haven’t a clue. I only know he’s alive because I would have felt it if he had died.” Kaiba’s thin fingers found their way to his chest, to press firmly against where his heart beat. “I would have felt it.”

“Can you tell me why you referred to your step father in the past tense? You don’t speak that way of your brother.”

“I killed him.”

“Why? Didn’t you think that killing him would sever your only link to your brother?”

“Of course I did.” Kaiba forced himself to remain calm. “It’s your turn by the way.”

“Of course it is.” The genie smiled genially and moved a pawn.

“However, he through various action had proven to me that he held no intent of ever disclosing my brother’s location to me, and ever day that passed I found myself with less and less autonomy under his forceful thumb.” Kaiba quickly reassessed the board with fresh eyes, seeing a win the genie had for some reason not taken and, though grateful, grimaced. A victory is meaningless if handed, but his brother was more important than his pride.

“So,” Kaiba swallowed, quickly taking his turn, “I killed him. I slipped into his room while he slept and slit his throat before he could scream out for his guards. I put that damned collar on his bloody neck and rappelled out the window using his knotted shirts. I stole his horse and returned the next day from a night of ‘gallivanting’ about the town to claim my inheritance. To the outside world I was his rightful heir, and my alibi for his murder went unquestioned.”

“And you fruitlessly funneled his money into your search.”

“Yes,” Kaiba responded, though the genie’s words hadn’t been a question. The genie hummed and took his turn. 

“Tell me about the collar.”

“What collar?”

“The one you put on his neck after you killed him. What was the significance of that?”

“I just found it.”

“Did he collar you?”

Kaiba reddened, quickly moving his next piece. He could, theoretically if things panned out in his favor, win in the next two moves. “No.”

“How is it,” the genie lifted his next piece to his lip, resting it against the plump surface as if in thought, “that no one questioned your involvement in his death, if he was presumably found wearing your collar?”

“He always had me wear shirts that covered my neck.” His eyes followed the genie’s hand as he lowered his bishop. “So no one, aside from the two of us, knew that I wore it. Besides, there’s no way that the authorities, if they even bothered, would have been able to distinguish any traces of blood on as mine or his.”

“I have many questions.”

“As do I.” Kaiba took the genie’s bishop with a pawn. He smirked.

“Oh?” The genie cornered him. “Checkmate.” His smirk dropped.

“Tell me where you came from.”

“What’s the magic word?” The genie teased. 

Kaiba rolled his eyes. “Please.”

“I don’t know where I come from. I am a lost king, from a lost land, with a forgotten name, long devoured by time. I only know of my nobility from the etches on the box my dear partner found my puzzle in.” His blood red eyes sparkled by the end of his forlornly delivered statement. Kaiba frowned.

“Really? That’s it?”

“I also know that I just won our game. Checkmate, as I do believe it's said.”

“What?” Kaiba’s gaze scrambled down to their game. There was no possible move he could make to free his king. The genie reached across the board and with a single swipe of the hand sealed his fate. His heart stopped beating and his life flashed before his eyes. He might as well be dying.

“No!” He shouted, throwing the game board across the room. “It’s not possible! I can’t have lost, not when it’s for him! I demand you take it back!” He pounded his fists into the table, rhythmically and hysterically. The genie didn’t blink.

“I will be taking my prize.” The fireplace flickered out, as if by a shadow turned breeze. Kaiba choked and stumbled back. His foot caught on his chair, and he clattered and rolled to the ground. He scurried backward until his back smacked into the wall behind him.

A shadowy being with a single glowing eye and a mass of hair that flickered like living flames loomed over him. A shadowed hand reached out for him and gripped his face. His body was frozen, and no matter how desperately he wished, he could not fight against it. “If you are strong, you will not die from it, but I’m taking your mind.”

Kaiba felt the hand slip through the very flesh of his head. It sent horrific chills racing down his spine. He screamed, he knew he did because he could hear it, not because he felt it. “And worry not for your brother,” a distant voice spoke as his senses grew dark and indistinguishable from one another. “He’s in a castle, and he’s safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might come back one day an change the ending, I don't think I'm quite happy with it, but as of right now I'm going to live with it...


End file.
